Every so often, a real estate story comes along that makes even the most unusual listing look ordinary.
In 2018, entrepreneur Brent Underwood and a group of investors bought Cerro Gordo, an abandoned silver-mining town in California’s Inyo Mountains, for a reported US$1.4 million. What began as an ambitious preservation and hospitality idea became something far more personal when Underwood moved there during the early months of the pandemic.
He expected to stay for a few weeks. Years later, he was still Cerro Gordo’s only full-time resident.
And honestly? It is incredibly cool.
Not because living alone at 8,200 feet without running water or reliable cell service sounds comfortable. It does not. It is cool because Underwood did not simply buy an unusual piece of land. He accepted responsibility for a place with history, hardship, architecture, stories and scars—and then let millions of people watch the restoration unfold.
A Town That Became a Full-Time Calling
Cerro Gordo was once a thriving nineteenth-century mining community. Its mines produced silver, lead and other minerals, and thousands of people reportedly lived there during its boom years. By the twentieth century, the mining economy had faded and the town was largely abandoned.
Life there today is not the romantic movie version of disappearing into the mountains. The nearest grocery store is roughly two hours away. The steep access road climbs thousands of feet in only a few miles. Winter can freeze water lines and make travel impossible. Construction materials, tradespeople and equipment all have to reach a remote site where ordinary jobs become complicated.
Underwood’s work ranges from caring for goats, alpacas and chickens to coordinating engineers, contractors, preservation work and government approvals. One of the largest projects has been rebuilding the American Hotel after the original historic building was destroyed by fire in 2020.
His goal is not to sand away every rough edge and turn Cerro Gordo into a manufactured theme park. The plan is to preserve the atmosphere that makes the town feel authentic while creating cabins, campsites and eventually accommodation in the rebuilt hotel.
That tension—between preservation and reinvention—is what makes this much more than a quirky real estate purchase.
Watch the Story Unfold
Underwood has documented the difficult, funny and sometimes astonishing reality of the project online. This TikTok video from Brent Underwood offers a direct glimpse into the Cerro Gordo story and the extraordinary setting he is working to preserve.
That documentation has helped transform an isolated place into a global community. People who may never have heard of Cerro Gordo now follow the progress, volunteer, visit and contribute skills. At one annual Silver Run, hundreds of people came to the mountain; volunteers also helped pour concrete when the remote location made it difficult to hire a company for the job.
There is a lovely contradiction in that: a town known for having almost no residents has created a remarkably large community.
Canada Has Its Own Ghost-Town Stories
Canada’s geography and economic history have produced many communities shaped by a single mine, mill, railway or resource industry. When the ore ran out, markets changed or an employer closed, some towns contracted. Others disappeared. A few found an entirely new purpose.
They are not all “ghost towns” in the same sense, and that distinction matters. Some are protected historic attractions. Some are living communities with year-round residents. Some sit on private property or Crown land. Others contain unsafe structures, mine workings or contaminated sites. Their common thread is the way a place can outlast the industry that created it.
Sandon, British Columbia
In British Columbia’s Slocan Valley, Sandon grew rapidly during the 1890s silver-lead boom. Fires, floods and changing economics reduced what had once been a busy mining centre to a small historic community. Today, its surviving buildings, museum work and volunteer stewardship make it one of Canada’s most evocative mining-town destinations.
Sandon feels especially close to the Cerro Gordo story: rugged terrain, mining history, surviving structures and people who believe the place is still worth caring for.
Bankhead, Alberta
Bankhead was a coal-mining community inside what is now Banff National Park. When the mine closed in the early 1920s, residents left and many buildings were removed. Visitors can now walk among foundations and industrial remains along an interpretive trail.
Bankhead is a useful reminder that a ghost town may be protected public heritage rather than real estate. The value is not in the possibility of purchasing it; it is in being able to read the outline of a once-busy community in the landscape.
Val-Jalbert, Quebec
Val-Jalbert was founded around a pulp mill near the Ouiatchouan Falls. When the mill closed in 1927, the company town emptied. It later found a second life as a preserved historic village where visitors can explore restored buildings, ruins and the industrial landscape.
Of all the Canadian comparisons, Val-Jalbert may best demonstrate what thoughtful reinvention can accomplish. The village’s economic purpose disappeared, but its physical story became the foundation for education, tourism and preservation.
Cobalt, Ontario
Cobalt is not an abandoned town—and it should not be described as one. It is a living Northern Ontario community within the Cobalt Mining District National Historic Site. Its streets, mine sites, headframes and surviving buildings preserve the landscape of the early twentieth-century silver boom.
Cobalt shows another possible future for a resource town: people continue to live there while heritage becomes part of the community’s identity and visitor economy.
Barkerville, British Columbia
Barkerville began during the Cariboo Gold Rush and is now a protected heritage destination rather than an abandoned property waiting for a buyer. Its preserved streetscape helps visitors understand both the scale of the rush and the people whose labour, businesses and migration built the community.
It is the polished end of the preservation spectrum: not one person living alone among deteriorating buildings, but an established historic site supported by professional interpretation and ongoing conservation.
“Abandoned” Does Not Mean Empty of Meaning
There is an important Canadian context that the romance of ghost towns can easily miss.
A former settler or industrial community may be described as abandoned because a mine closed and its buildings emptied. That does not mean the land lacked a history before the town appeared, or that nobody has an enduring relationship with it now. Across Canada, these places stand on the traditional territories of Indigenous Peoples, and mining, forestry and settlement may have caused displacement or environmental harm that remains part of the story.
Good preservation asks more than, “How do we save this old building?” It also asks whose stories have been recorded, whose were omitted, what happened to the land and water, and who should be involved in deciding the site’s future.
That does not make these places less fascinating. It makes them more complete.
Could You Buy a Ghost Town in Canada?
Occasionally, a former company settlement, remote commercial property or collection of historic buildings does come to market in Canada. But a headline saying “ghost town for sale” can conceal a complicated collection of assets and liabilities.
The first question is not whether the property looks incredible in photographs. It is what is actually being sold.
- Title and boundaries: Are all buildings on the titled parcel? Are roads, shorelines, mineral rights or access routes included?
- Legal access: Is there a registered right-of-way, a maintained public road or only a seasonal route?
- Land use: Does current zoning allow accommodation, events, tours, restaurants or residential occupancy?
- Heritage controls: Is the property designated or listed, and what approvals are required before altering it?
- Water and wastewater: Can the site legally support wells, septic systems or the number of visitors imagined?
- Environmental condition: Are there tailings, fuels, chemicals, unstable mine workings or other contamination concerns?
- Building safety: Can the structures be occupied, insured or restored to current fire and building standards?
- Emergency access: How quickly can fire, ambulance or police services reach the property in every season?
- Operating reality: Where will labour, materials, power, internet, food and waste services come from?
A purchase price is only the admission ticket. Stabilization, environmental work, engineering, insurance, road maintenance and utilities can quickly become the larger investment.
The Pros and Cons of Taking on a Place Like This
Potential advantages
- A rare chance to preserve history: The work can protect buildings, artifacts and community stories that might otherwise disappear.
- A truly distinctive destination: Heritage accommodation, tours, events and educational programs can create an experience that cannot be replicated in a new development.
- Creative freedom: Subject to approvals, a large and unusual site may support multiple uses and a long-term vision.
- Community building: A compelling project can attract volunteers, historians, craftspeople, visitors and supporters.
- Personal meaning: Restoring something tangible can offer a powerful sense of purpose and connection to place.
Potential disadvantages
- Extraordinary carrying costs: Remote maintenance, security, heat, snow clearing and repairs continue whether revenue does or not.
- Unpredictable restoration: Once work begins, structural damage, hazardous materials and missing infrastructure can change the budget dramatically.
- Limited financing and insurance: Lenders and insurers may struggle to value or underwrite a property with few true comparables.
- Approvals can be complex: Municipal, provincial and sometimes federal requirements may overlap.
- Isolation is real: Solitude may sound appealing, but emergency response, weather, loneliness and basic errands can become serious concerns.
- Stewardship brings obligations: Heritage, environmental and cultural responsibilities can constrain what an owner may reasonably do.
What Makes Underwood’s Project So Compelling
The most compelling part of the Cerro Gordo story is not the purchase. Anyone with sufficient financing can acquire a remarkable property when one becomes available.
The compelling part is staying.
It is continuing after a fire destroys a landmark building. It is dealing with snow, broken equipment, frozen pipes, contractors who cannot make the journey and budgets that must stretch further than expected. It is recognizing that solitude does not magically solve a person’s problems—it merely removes some of the distractions around them.
Underwood’s videos make the project entertaining, but the underlying lesson is serious: stewardship is a practice, not an aesthetic. It is repetitive work carried out long after the novelty wears off.
Why This Story Resonates in Canada
Canadians understand communities built around one industry. We have towns shaped by mines, mills, fisheries, railways and forestry, along with generations of families whose lives followed the rise and fall of those economies.
We also understand distance. In a remote Canadian property, the road, the weather and the nearest service are not side notes in a listing. They are part of the property itself.
That is why the story of one person rebuilding an abandoned California town feels surprisingly familiar. It asks a question that applies from the Eastern Sierra to Northern Ontario, rural Quebec, the Rockies and the Kootenays:
When a place has outlived its original purpose, do we let it disappear—or can we give it a thoughtful second life?
Most of us will never buy a mining town. But we may buy an old farmhouse, a former church, a century home, a rural commercial building or a property whose value is not obvious on a spreadsheet. The scale is different, but the principle is the same: understand what you are taking on, respect what came before and make sure the dream has a workable plan beneath it.
And if you happen to find an entire Canadian ghost town for sale? Please send me the listing. I absolutely want to see it.
Sources and Further Reading
- Cerro Gordo official site and restoration information
- Brent Underwood’s Cerro Gordo TikTok video
- PEOPLE: Brent Underwood’s life as Cerro Gordo’s only resident
- Sandon Historical Society and Museum
- Village historique de Val-Jalbert
- Parks Canada: Cobalt Mining District National Historic Site
This article is general information and commentary, not legal, engineering, environmental, investment or real estate advice. Unusual and historic properties require property-specific professional review.